


After the Ambush

by FightingForms



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Comfort, First Time, M/M, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FightingForms/pseuds/FightingForms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben realizes how much Washington cares for him when he returns to camp covered in blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Ambush

It still surprised Ben how time worked in battle and its aftermath. One minute he’d been fending off a teasing from Caleb—about what, he couldn’t remember now, though he was sure Caleb would remind him eventually (and repeatedly)—and in the next second, there had been a glint from the bushes. What he remembered, in flashes, was the sun shining off of the sword in his hand. The look of jubilation on the face of the lobsterback who had shot his horse out from under him. Firing, and slashing, and smoke and Caleb covered in blood, baring his teeth. 

Moments later there were bodies to search for clues, other horses to find, and Caleb giving Ben a once-over, bloodied hand skimming gently and thoroughly over Ben’s already blood-splattered face and blood and sweat-soaked body, before finally consenting to let Ben examine him. 

“Don’t worry so much about me, Tallboy,” Caleb grinned. “I’m not the one who had a horse shot out from me. Now you and Arnold can share competing stories ‘round the campfire.”

Ben glowered in a way Caleb clearly didn’t find threatening even after having watched Ben’s battlefield heroics, and then suggested that they get back to camp post-haste so that he could regale Arnold with his own tale.

At that, Caleb's grin became pointed. “You had best present yourself to another General before you go bragging to Arnold, boy.”

Ben sighed and looked heavenward. He had sensed Washington’s interest, but Caleb was making too much of things. It wasn’t like the man would worry for him. After all, he was a trained soldier and Washington had thousands of men under his command. He couldn’t be waiting at the entrance of the camp for each of them to return home. 

“Caleb. He’s a busy man. I will write him a report and he’ll send for me if he needs more details.”

“He’ll need to be certain that his…head of intelligence is safe, especially since we sent word of the ambush ahead. Trust me, Ben. He’ll want to see you with his own eyes after reading that. And we’d best leave now to make sure we stay alive after having written that we were—we don’t know whether more of them are coming this way.”

Ben mounted, wondering whether Caleb could be right about both another ambush and Washington’s feelings for him. 

There were…tensions between Ben and Washington, and Ben wasn’t entirely surprised that Caleb had noticed. While Washington had never done anything beyond let his hand linger on Ben’s shoulder and allow Ben to touch him without receiving a tongue lashing, it was true that the two of them could not be in the same room together without Ben feeling overwhelmingly aware of Washington’s attention. The man wouldn’t even have to be looking at him, but Ben couldn’t move without sensing that Washington was aware of it. 

In the end, both Ben and Caleb were correct. Washington was not pacing at the entrance to the camp. They were, however, met by one of his aides, who directed them to proceed directly to Washington.

Washington looked up from his letters as soon as they entered. His gaze flickered over the two them briefly, then settled on Ben as though no one else was in the room. 

“Brewster. Clean yourself up. I need to speak to Major Tallmadge. Alone.”

Caleb didn’t dare smile at Ben as he slipped out.

Ben swallowed under the intensity of Washington’s regard, feeling like prey even though the blood he was covered in marked him as a victor rather than a victim.

Maybe Washington was looking at him like that because he was angry that Ben hadn’t taken the time to wash himself before entering the tent, Ben thought, and Washington had told Caleb to leave so that he could lecture Ben about setting a better example for the men in private. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Ben said, looking at the ground. “Your message said to come immediately, but I know how you feel about proper dress, and—“

“Come here,” Washington interrupted, levelly. 

Ben started forward, confused, only to be met halfway by Washington, who seized him in a bone-crushing embrace. It hurt, aggravating the deep bruises Ben had sustained from his fall and subsequent combat, but Ben found he didn’t care, that all he really noticed was the feeling of Washington’s labored breath at the nape of his neck. It was warm, it tickled, and Ben needed more contact. 

He moaned, shifting in Washington’s grasp, angling his lips for a kiss.

Washington, however, had other ideas. It seemed the moan had reminded him of Ben’s possible injuries, as he stepped back, took Ben’s face in his rough, warm hands, and checked for injuries with single-minded determination, not even seeming to hear Ben when he explained that it wasn’t necessary, that Caleb had already examined him.

Washington’s hands covered every inch of Ben from the front, the warm, firm searching pressure easing Ben’s tension even as his heart rate accelerated due to Washington’s attentions and proximity. 

When satisfied that Ben wasn’t hiding any gaping wounds on his front, Washington straightened, running his hands up Ben’s body as a final check before yanking him in for a kiss that bruised Ben’s lips, which were one of the only parts of him that had not already been aching. 

They kissed greedily, Ben’s hands gripping the back of Washington’s coat, urging him to go deeper, while Washington maintained a firm grip on the back of Ben’s neck, keeping his head angled where he wanted it while his other hand reached under Ben’s jacket and grabbed at his bottom, holding and squeezing it in a way that made Ben suddenly aware of it as a part of him that could provide both of them with pleasure.

When they finally broke apart, Ben expected to be stripped and bent over, or to be pushed to his knees and instructed on how to deal with the bulge he felt in Washington’s pants. What had been brewing between them had finally boiled over; they were alive and they were celebrating that fact. Anything could happen.

The last thing Ben had expected was for Washington to circle behind him, lift his braid out of the way, and press a kiss to the back of his neck. 

“It is one of the only places on you not currently covered in blood,” Washington whispered in his ear before continuing his inspection of Ben from the rear, running his hands across Ben’s shoulders and back before firmly patting his bottom and sliding his hands down the backs of Ben’s legs. 

“I don’t feel anything broken, Major,” Washington said, “but I want to examine you for bruising and clean you of filth. Go through to the bedroom and I will arrange for a washbasin to be brought.”

Ben went through in a daze. He started to sit on the bed, then remembered how dirty he was and remained standing on trembling legs, not even daring to lean against the wall for fear of smudging it. Caleb had been right. Washington had worried about him. Washington wanted him. And he wanted Washington. But he’d never been with anyone before, and he didn’t know what it would all mean, and would Washington even want someone inexperienced when he’d made it clear before that he didn’t want to have to instruct Ben in anything….

Faster than Ben would have thought possible, two soldiers carrying a tub of hot water and towels came though, followed by Washington. The soldiers departed after being thanked. Washington didn’t. 

Ben licked his lips, heart hammering, and started to shakily undo his bloodied cravat. Washington had been watching him from behind the steaming tub, but Ben’s trembling fingers seemed to have alerted him that Ben might need some assistance.

With a gentle kiss this time, Washington reached back and loosed Ben’s braid, then stripped him of his jacket and slowly unbuttoned his waistcoat, pausing to press his hand against Ben’s heart. Ben hoped it wasn’t beating too tellingly fast, but Washington seemed to enjoy its activity.  
Next, Washington instructed him to lift his arms so that he could be divested of his shirt. 

Ben could not remember a time when he had felt more vulnerable and excited. The combination of Washington’s eyes on him and the combination of the cold room and warm steam from the bath made his nipples—not to mention his cock--achingly hard. 

Washington started to kneel to undo Ben’s breeches, but at that, Ben resisted, mindful again of his lack of experience and reluctant to have Washington see the evidence of his arousal. What if he couldn’t control himself and embarrassed himself too soon? He closed his hands over Washington’s, forcing him to stop. 

Washington looked at him enquiringly. “Would you prefer privacy, Benjamin?”

Ben blushed from his face to his chest. Washington’s pupils dilated even further, but he did not comment, waiting for Ben to explain what he needed. And therein was the difficulty. For Ben, talking about this rather than allowing his body to speak for him felt next to impossible. 

But he was an adult, for all he was inexperienced, and Washington deserved the truth so that he could make up his own mind about whether he wanted a virgin.

“I….no, sir. I would prefer it if you remained.” Ben swallowed, calling on all his courage. “Only…well….I’ve not done this before, sir, and I’m not sure how—or whether you’ll want—“

Washington gazed at Ben in wonder, then reached out slowly, giving Ben time to retreat if he wanted to, and cupped Ben’s cheek. 

“You mean you’ve never been with another man?” Washington asked, so close to Ben their noses were practically touching.

Ben closed his eyes, gathering strength, then opened them to Washington’s gently probing gaze.

“I’ve never been with anyone, man or woman, sir,” Ben replied. 

It was Washington’s turn to close his eyes as he gripped Ben tighter. When he opened them, they were impossibly dark. He cleared his throat. 

“You honor me, Benjamin. We will take this only as far as you are comfortable, and you will tell me the moment you want to stop. My position does not entitle me to your body beyond ordering you to fight with it, and you will not be punished for withholding anything, are we clear?”

Ben nodded, relieved that Washington still wanted him and unsurprised at the lecture. It wouldn’t be Washington without a lecture mixed in with the excitement. 

“I need a verbal answer,” Washington said, still very much in command even while reminding Ben that there were things he would never command him to do. The humor in that struck Ben, and he couldn’t help saluting alongside his “Yes, sir!”

Washington grinned a rare grin that showed his teeth, but he reached around and swatted Ben’s backside hard enough to make him gasp all the same. 

“I said I would never force you to do anything you did not want to do, Major, but I never promised not to punish insolence.”

Ben rubbed at his backside, enjoying the tingling heat much more than he thought he would, and grinned back unrepentantly. 

Washington eyed him speculatively, rubbed the spot he had smacked, then hmmed and shook his head, muttering “not yet,” under his breath. He then knelt and placed his hands back on the fastening to Ben’s breeches. 

“Do you want me to take care of you?” 

Ben nodded, feeling his belly draw in, then remembered that Washington wanted verbal answers and said “Yes, please.”

Washington nodded and slowly took down Ben’s breeches, drawing in a breath at the sight of Ben’s stiff cock. He bent to kiss it, his hair tickling Ben’s bare belly, then reached around and grabbed Ben by the hips before guiding him into his mouth.

Ben thought he would explode right away, but Washington reached down and pinched him just so in order to draw it out a little. It was….unbelievable. His cock seemed to have a life of its own, twitching and throbbing and responding in ways Ben had never thought possible, but Washington knew how to make it do what he wanted, and what he wanted was for Ben to come in his mouth, which Ben promptly did.

Washington swallowed, eyes gleaming and smiled at Ben’s flushed and gobsmacked face. 

“I will make it last much longer next time, Benjamin, but the bathwater is getting cold.”

Still somewhat dazed, Ben allowed himself to be led into the bath. He started to reach for soap and a cloth, only for Washington to tell him to close his eyes and relax. 

Ben leaned back against the rim of the tub and let go for the first time in what felt like months. He did not think it was possible to be any more relaxed after the orgasm, but the combination of warm water and Washington washing the blood and sweat off of him so carefully and gently had him feeling completely boneless. 

Ben was so relaxed that Washington had to help him out of the bath. He must have muttered his worries about getting Washington wet out loud, because Washington laughed and told him that he’d be removing his own clothing soon enough anyway.

Washington toweled Ben down quickly, mindful of the cold, and bundled him into bed before starting to remove his own clothes. 

The sight made Ben go from boneless to rock hard again in hardly any time at all. 

Washington’s size was…. impressive, but Ben found that he wanted to see if he could take it. He was sure he would feel it for days, and that it would remind him of what they had shared the next time he had to leave camp for a mission. 

But first Ben wanted to map Washington’s body the way Washington had explored his. He reached out his hand and pulled a somewhat surprised but unresisting Washington into bed, then straddled him and started to kiss down his chest, pausing to lick and nip at what he thought would be sensitive spots. 

He paused when he got to Washington’s cock, then rubbed the swollen, velvety head, imagining he could feel what he was doing to Washington on his own member.

Washington sucked in a breath and propped himself up on his elbows. 

“You are a natural, Benjamin,” he said. “I am getting close, and I should warn you now that, unlike yourself, I might not be able to perform a second time for quite some time. I am happy to take care of my needs in private, or you may do as you wish. I am sure you have talented hands, and I cannot tell you how many times I’ve dreamt of your mouth.”

While Ben wanted to become as good as Washington at using his mouth, he knew that as natural as Washington said he was, he would probably not be able to provide as much pleasure as he had been given this first time. He wanted Washington to thoroughly enjoy himself, and he’d felt sparks behind his eyes whenever Washington had handled his backside. 

“I had hoped, sir, that you would take your pleasure elsewhere inside of me,” Ben said, blush returning though he managed to look Washington in the eyes as he said it.

Washington pushed himself up all the way and, graceful as a panther, stalked his way over to Ben, eyes gleaming. His voice, however, was gentle. 

“You’re certain? We have done many new things already this night, and I fear your bruises will make you uncomfortable—“

“Please, sir. I’m certain. I want to feel you, not the bruises I received in combat today.”

“The things you do to me, Benjamin,” Washington said softly. “I will be as gentle as I can, but I’m afraid you certainly will feel me. It will likely hurt, and you must tell me immediately if you need me to stop or slow down.”

“I will,” Ben promised, and found that he meant it. While he had been thinking in terms of his own pleasure and Washington’s as well as the pride he would feel in ‘taking it,’ he also knew that Washington trusted him to communicate his feelings and would feel betrayed if Ben hurt and wanted to stop but said nothing.

Washington searched Ben’s eyes for a moment longer, then nodded and got up, padding over to a satchel in the corner of the room and returning with a bottle of oil.  
He coated three of his fingers liberally while Ben watched, excited but puzzled and slightly apprehensive. 

“Sir, what are you….?” He asked, slightly embarrassed to be asking what was likely a basic question.

Washington seemed surprised, but quickly hastened to make Ben comfortable and ramp up his excitement. 

“These fingers,” Washington explained somewhat breathlessly “are going to open you up before I take you. And I cannot wait to take you, to watch my fingers and my cock stretching you open, claiming you…”

Ben shivered at the idea, nervous about being so exposed and the depths of Washington’s desire, but also thrilled at the image and disappointed that he would not be able to see himself being taken. 

Washington kissed him again, slow and reassuring, then pulled back and told Ben to turn over onto his side. Ben did, relishing the friction of his cock against a nearby pillow. He was just starting to rub himself against it when he felt one of Washington’s arms anchoring him around the middle, preventing him from moving. Washington held him pinned down while he caressed Ben’s bottom with his other hand, then he slipped a finger into Ben’s crease and circled it teasingly around his hole. 

Ben wriggled at the unfamiliar sensation, wanting more, but Washington’s arm tightening around him and his “shhh, wait,” settled him down though his heart felt like it would leap out of his chest and skitter across the floorboards.

The tip of the first finger finally entered and Washington paused, letting Ben adjust. When Ben pushed back, demanding more, Washington leaned over and kissed him. Ben felt his smile.

“How did I know you would be so impatient?” Washington asked.

“Experience,” Ben sighed.

“Indeed. But in this case, I will give you more,” Washington said, slipping the finger all the way in. “How do you feel?”

Ben felt full, and stretched, and safe, and told Washington so. 

“Ah, but does it feel good?”

“It does not feel bad…just full.”

And then Washington crooked the finger inside him and it felt very, very good, and he couldn’t help tightening up. 

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t hurt you, sir, it just felt so good—“

“Believe me, Benjamin, it felt good to me as well. I can just imagine how it will feel when I’m inside you.”

Washington continued to take it slow, moving the finger in and out at varying speeds and telling Ben how much he relished the sight of it disappearing into his bottom, as well as how gratified he was that Ben’s toes were curling in pleasure. 

When it was time for the second finger, he placed a kiss to the back of Ben’s neck and explained what he was about to do. He paused at the amount of pain in Ben’s gasp when he inserted the second tip and gave him several moments to adjust, then slowly and carefully made the second finger fit, keeping up a constant stream of praise. 

After they had derived enough pleasure and stretching from three fingers, Washington declared that he thought it was time. Ben was still on his side, and Washington moved one of Ben’s knees up to give himself better access. This position would be easiest for Ben, he explained, and was just lining himself up to enter when Ben asked him to wait.

“I want to see your face,” Ben said. “I don’t mind if it hurts a little more, I can take pain, but I need to see you.”

Washington stilled behind him and drew in a deep breath. “If you’re certain,” he said, voice positively ragged, and turned, rolling Ben onto his back and arranging Ben’s legs over his shoulders.

Ben’s eyes were wide and trusting, with the black of his pupils drowning out the deep blue. 

“Yes,” Ben said, then closed his eyes in a wince when Washington started to push in. 

Washington stopped, trembling with the effort of waiting. 

“Do you need me to stop,” he asked.

“No,” Ben answered, eyes still clenched shut and toes curled with pain rather than pleasure. “Just…please. Keep it slow.” 

“It will feel better soon, Benjamin,” Washington promised, and rocked forward to kiss as much of the pain away as he could. 

A short time later, when Ben opened his eyes again, they were tear-filled, but pain free and excited. He smiled up at Washington and pushed back against a thrust. Washington’s answering smile lit up his entire face. He kissed Ben again, wiped the tears and sweat away, and brought Ben to completion before quickly finishing himself. 

Washington eased himself out of Ben, gently lowering Ben’s legs off of his shoulders, then stood and found a cloth to clean them both up. Ben made a half-hearted effort to take the cloth, mumbling sleepily that he was grateful, but could clean himself. However, his eyelids were already flickering closed. He had, after all, had quite a day. 

Ben started to drift to sleep, Washington at his back with an arm curled around his middle. Yes, Caleb had certainly been right. And Ben could tell Arnold (and Washington) all about the horse being shot out from under him tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Washington saying he wanted to see Ben "alone" in one of the first season episodes is one of the things that got me interested in shipping them, so it had to make an appearance here.


End file.
